


A Spot of Rain

by IcamaneHatake



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Cedric Diggory Has A Diary, Cedric Diggory is Very Soft, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dementors, F/M, Fred and George are Gremlins, Gen, Harry Potter Has a Sibling, I tried to date someone else so I'd stop thinking about you, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Cho Chang/Cedric Diggory, Oh No He's Hot, Oliver Wood is a bit unhinged, One Shot, Original Character-centric, Quidditch, References to Depression, Unresolved Romantic Tension, it's not working that well, oblivious crushes, why are we playing sports in shitty weather, you can pry my oc's from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26275783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcamaneHatake/pseuds/IcamaneHatake
Summary: In which Fred and George attempt to read Cedric's private dairy, Oliver makes his team play in terrible conditions, Cedric is trying his best, and Jennifer Potter just wants to get through one day at Hogwarts without something going wrong.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory & Original Female Character(s), Cedric Diggory/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	A Spot of Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Cedric has limited screen time in canon, which is criminal, and he deserves far better. 
> 
> Please enjoy my pre-shippy nonsense involving him, Harry's older sibiling Jennifer, the infamous PoA Quidditch Match From Hell, and some "haha what? I don't have a crush on them, nope, not me" moments.

**October, 1993**

“PEEVES! GIVE IT BACK!” 

“Ooooh, Ickle Pottie is getting gruuuuummmmmpy!” Peeves taunted me, dangling my Potions textbook over my head just out of my reach, jerking it upwards when I jumped for it. 

“If you don't give it the _fuck back_ right now I'll-” 

“WHEEEE!” 

Peeves started zooming away, and I turned sharply around to follow him. 

“OW!”

“Augh!” 

I ran into someone who was nearly my height, our foreheads smacking together, books scattering, and a bottle of ink upset itself all over our uniforms. Above us, Peeves started howling in laughter, and people around us gave us wide birth, not wanting to be caught up in any of his shenanigans. 

“I’ll have you for this, Peeves! _Incendio!_ ”

A jet of fire shot out of my wand, not really harming Peeves, but startling him enough that he dropped my book and zoomed away, shrieking about lunatic Gryffindors. 

“Miss Potter.”

That voice made my spine shiver, and I turned to see Snape standing not far behind me in the now nearly empty corridor. 

“I believe by now you know the rules concerning magic in the hallways between classes?” he asked, his voice a deadly whisper. 

“Yes, sir.” My teeth were gritted, and I felt the ink slowly soaking through my sweater and into my shirt. My face grew hot, clentched hands trembling, head pounding.

“And what might that rule be?” His cold, dark eyes were trying to bore into mine, and I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck. 

“That we’re not allowed to use magic in between classes.” I was trying to keep my tone even, as that might help me avoid detention if Snape hadn't already made up his mind. 

“Professor Snape, she was provoked, Peeves—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion on the rules, Mr. Diggory,” Snape said, and I suddenly realized that it was Cedric I had run into. “Twenty points from Gryffindor, Miss Potter, and if I catch you doing magic in the corridors again, you won’t be playing Quidditch for much longer.” I wanted to argue so badly, but I knew better. I bit my tongue. “And five points from Hufflepuff, Mr. Diggory, for your cheek. Now clean up this mess." He swept off, his smugness practically radiating off of him. 

“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, looking at the mess I had caused. Well, Peeves had caused most of it. But I hadn’t helped. Now that it was just Cedric and I, I had time to actually feel embarrassed.

“No worries, I guess I hadn’t properly closed my ink before I left for class,” Cedric said, shaking his head. I tried not to focus on his face, angular jawline and kind eyes that made my stomach twist in unpleasant ways. I was not allowed to have _opinions_ on how he looked, especially when they were stupid and about some boy who was not only a Quidditch rival, but taken. He glanced around to make sure Snape was gone before he pulled out his wand. “Want me to clean you off?” he offered once he had siphoned the ink out of his clothes.

“Sure,” I said, holding still so he could perform the charm. My uniform was clean in no time, and we both scrambled up our books. I started stacking mine together as fast as possible. I didn't have anywhere to be other than a Quidditch strategy meeting with the Gryffindor team, and not for another half hour. No, I wanted to get as far away from Cedric as possible before I could really settle in to the anxious spiral of how many people would be laughing about this encounter within the hour.

“Hold on, I think this is your copy of _Advanced Transfiguration_ ,” Cedric said, handing me the huge tome. 

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you in class,” he said, waving, and we parted ways. I practically ran down the corridor and around the corner, desperate to be the first to the locker rooms and to hopefully avoid any more issues on the way there.

* * *

It was a relatively quiet night in the common room. Oliver had finally left me alone after almost half an hour of constant badgering over the Hufflepuff Keeper's new moves to hunt down Harry. Harry had been very clever to avoid the common room, which deeply irritated Oliver, but I could not blame him. Since finding out about the match switch with Slytherin two weeks ago, he had been bothering Harry the most. Certainly, Cedric being the new Captain, the Seeker, and having trained his team relatively well (Oliver's words), was something to be slightly concerned about. Cedric was good at almost everything he did, Quidditch included. But Oliver was practically frothing at the mouth with how serious he was. It was, after all, his seventh year. And we hadn't, yet, won the Quidditch Cup under his leadership. Always very close, but never quite there. He was very free with sharing this burden with the rest of the team, saddling us all with the guilt and nerves that if Oliver Wood didn't win the Quidditch Cup while he was at Hogwarts, then he could kiss his professional career goodbye before it had begun.

So Oliver finally left to try and find Harry in the Library, and I continued the struggle that was my Transfiguration essay. I wanted it done tonight, though it was technically not due until Tuesday, since I wouldn’t be working on it this weekend. I knew myself well enough now to know that after Quidditch matches, no matter which way they went, I wouldn’t work. I would either be busy moping, celebrating, or healing in the Hospital Wing. And with the way the weather had been this past week, I had no idea how it was going to go. So I was set up at a table in a corner, my stacks of books spread around me, along with some others that I had borrowed from the Library. My foot long essay was stretched out in front of me, and I was paused, trying to think of the right words. All I could think about were the many, many moves and formations and strategies Oliver had crammed down our throats this afternoon, and how sore my muscles still were from the early morning practice. I shook my head as if that would clear my thoughts and looked back over my essay. I noticed a spot where I had accidentally written 'Beater' instead of 'before,' and corrected it. Was I even talking about the right thing? I checked back over my notes for what McGonagall was asking us to explain. _Vanishing things go…_ where? I had no idea.

“What’s this?”

I looked up to see Fred standing over me, already reaching for a small book wedged between my Charms and History of Magic books that I hadn’t given much thought to earlier. 

“I dunno, I’ve had it all day,” I said, frowning. I was starting to get an idea about where that was from. “Give it back.”

“Not a chance,” Fred said, jerking away from me when I lunged at him. “Let’s see, shall we?” His grin was wide. 

“Fred,” I warned, standing to try and snatch it back, but his arms were longer than mine.

“Ooh! _Property of Cedric Amos Diggory_ ,” Fred recited, gleeful. 

“What?” George and I said, and Fred threw the book back to his twin before I could even react. “Diggory has a _diary?_ ”

“George, _don’t_ ,” I said, trying to get at him to yank the book away, but Fred blocked me and held me back. I could sense several pairs of eyes on us as the few Gryffindors in the room were now intensly interested.

“Let’s give this a read,” George said, clearing his throat dramatically. He stood up on an armchair, wobbling a bit on the thick cushion.

“Pick a good one,” Fred said, struggling to keep me in place. 

" _September 23rd, 1992,_ " George started, doing a terribly mocking impression of Cedric, “ _I can't believe it! I made the Quidditch team today! I was certain this fifth year bloke Herbert was going to get it, his dives were a bit smoother than mine, but-"_

"Boooooring!" shouted Lee Jordan, and several people laughed.

"Yeah, find a juicy one!"

Fred had wrapped me in a very tight hug now to try and pin my arms to the side. It was hard to fight him - he had grown several inches last summer and was also much stronger than I remembered.

George was flipping through the book, and stopped when his smile widened to one just as wicked as his twin's. " _April 4th, 1993. Cho Chang asked me out today. I was quite honestly blindsided, I haven't given her an answer yet. She's nice, and smart, and okay yeah she's very pretty. I just haven't thought about her that way before? But maybe I should give it a go. If nothing else, it'll help me keep my mind off of_ -"

“ _Expelliarmus!_ "

I had managed to get my wand out of my pocket and struggled around enough to take aim at George. The book sailed out of his hands and onto the chair I had previously been sitting in. Fred released me to dive at it, but I beat him to it. “I’m giving this _back_ ,” I demanded, wrestling myself away from Fred and shoving the journal down the front of my jumper. 

“Why? Don't you want to laugh at Diggory mooning over Cho Chang?” Fred mocked, laughing along with everyone else in the common room.

“No!” I insisted, my face starting to grow red. I hated when they did this. "It's his personal space, I just don't-"

“Oh come on, Jen, why are you defending him?” George chortled. He was still standing on the chair, giving me a calculated look.

“Because I’m not rude like you two,” I snapped, and I left, leaving my homework on the table and the Twins to their own idiocy. I let out a frustrated growl once I was in the corridor. They were absolute gremlins sometimes. I pulled the journal out from my jumper and held it and my wand as I walked. Technically, I was allowed out until ten, as I was a fifth year. But I was sure that Snape would descend upon me if I wasn’t quick enough, and burden me detention for a month. I hurried the best way I knew down to the ground floor and then towards the kitchens. That was the closest I knew to where the Hufflepuff common room was. 

I wandered the basement floor for a while until saw a boy walking opposite me wearing Hufflepuff robes, and I stopped him. “Um, sorry, but is the Hufflepuff common room down that way?” I asked him, pointing down the corridor he had just come from. 

He frowned in suspicion. “What's it to you?”

“I just… I’m looking for Cedric Diggory. I accidentally ended up with a book of his and I’d like to return it,” I said, holding up the journal briefly. I was wracked with nerves. Merlin I hope this guy believed me.

“Oh, alright. He’s in there, I’ll go fetch him for you,” the boy said, and he backtracked down the corridor. 

I sighed and leaned against the wall to wait. Temptation burned its way through me. I had the journal in my hand… no one was around to see me… surely it wouldn’t hurt to take a peak? What (or who?) was he so keen to take his mind off of by dating Cho? It wasn't as if I was going to tell anyone about what I read. I thumbed the pages, feeling the corners of the paper slide by over and over again. It was so wrong to invade his personal life like this. I barely knew him, and excepting the fact that I had ran into him today, I doubt he thought much about me. But he was highly popular, and I had always wanted to know why the most popular students in my year decided to pick me as a prime target for their ridicule.

Before I could get up the nerve to take a look, Cedric came walking up the corridor, his expression curious. “Jennifer? Smith said you had something of mine.”

“Yeah!" I gave a little jump at the sight of him. "I think this accidentally ended up with me when we bumped into each other earlier,” I said, holding out his journal to him. The relief that washed over his face was preceded by panic and followed by anxiety. “I didn’t look at it,” I added quickly, trying to reassure him. “I just saw the name on the inside and left to return it.” There was absolutely no need for him to know that Fred and George had tried to perform a dramatic reading of its contents to the Gryffindor common room. I desperately hoped that the episode would not be repeated to Cedric. Was it common knowledge that he had a journal (diary)? 

He let out a huge sigh. “Thank you, I… I’ve been a bit frantic, looking for this all day. Thank you.” Possibly not, judging by his reaction.

“Not a problem.”

I turned to leave, and he said, “Hey, uh, good luck tomorrow.”

I stopped and looked back. “What?”

“Good luck. With the match tomorrow,” he clarified. I could swear that his cheeks were turning pink. It had to be the lighting. Everything was much warmer down here.

“Um, hate to break it to you, but we’re playing each other tomorrow,” I said, an eyebrow raised. “Isn’t wishing me good luck a bit counter-productive?”

“I know-I mean… I don’t think it is. It looks like the weather’s gonna be rough, so I think all of us will need a good deal of luck just to stay on our brooms.”

I snorted. “Okay. Thanks then, I guess. And… you too?” 

He smiled. “Thanks. I’ll see you on the pitch.”

“Yeah. See you.”

* * *

The gale the next morning was insane. The wind was howling outside of the castle walls, rain hammering the windows like bullets. I sat in the Great Hall with the rest of my teammates, not touching a thing on my plate. Fred and George weren’t eating much either. Their moment of glee last night had been washed away with the weather. Angelina and Katie were both attempting to look chipper, but cast worrying looks up at the blackened ceiling. Oliver was hissing a non-stop stream of advice to Harry, who seemed overwhelmed. I wish I could have walked down with Harry, to reassure him, to tell him I thought Oliver was over-reacting a bit, that we had a solid team, and we could fly in this. If nothing, it was a handicap on both teams. But Harry had gotten up late, and Oliver began bombarding him the second he had sat down.

"Oliver, give it a rest," I finally snapped. He looked up at me in shock, mouth slightly agape. "Honestly, Harry's fine. He's the best this team has ever had." I noticed other team members looking at me, seeming to be just as shocked that I had spoken up. "What?" I grumbled, picking up another piece of toast as my face heated up. I shared a brief look with Harry, who gave me a weak smile.

“Come on team, let’s go,” Oliver said when he saw Cedric enter the Hall and sit down at the Hufflepuff table. We contained our grumbles as we followed him down to the pitch. The wind nearly blew us all over when we stepped out of the castle, and we all ducked our heads and followed Oliver down the slope of slick grass and mud. Surely they would cancel if the weather got much worse? Then again, I’d never heard of a game being canceled by silly things like, “Too much wind,” or, “The players need sleep.” 

"We'll be ok!" I shouted at Harry as we stumbled along together after the team.

"What?" he shouted back.

"It'll-oh, whatever," I said, just shaking my head at him. The tight plait I had set my hair in was whipping around me like a rope. Harry's glasses were completely fogged. We laced our fingers together as I lead him through the storm and to the pitch.

"Is anyone even here to watch yet?" George asked once we were safely inside. The floor was already a puddle from where everyone was wringing themselves out.

"I saw a few people coming down just after us," said Angelina. "Their umbrellas weren't terribly helpful."

"Can't we just move this match?" Katie asked. "I don't think any of us will even be able to fly, much less throw the Quaffle."

"Yeah, how's Harry supposed to see the Snitch?" I added.

"Magic, probably," Harry muttered, quiet enough that Oliver didn't hear him.

Oliver, on the other hand, looked stern. "We are not backing down because of a storm. What do you want me to do, forfeit to Hufflepuff?"

"Ask McGonagall to move the match?" I retorted. "Come on, Cedric's not that much of a prick, he probably doesn't want his team flying in this either."

"We are not going to switch at the last minute like Slytherin did." Oliver's voice was rough. "We are not a bunch of cowards afraid of a bit of rain!"

"Speak for yourself, mate," Fred said, finished changing into his Quidditch robes and guards. "Only lucky thing for us is they wear bright bloody yellow. Dunno if I'm gonna be able to even see Buldgers in this condition."

"We are playing." Oliver's jaw was set, his arms crossed. "We have been training all week in the rain and the wind. We are the better team. And Harry..." He paused to look at Harry, who was strapping on his arm guards with supreme irritation. "Well, Harry's faster than Diggory. We can probably score an early win if everyone just sticks to the plays we went over yesterday.

I nipped over to the girl's side to strip off my sodden clothes. _Every_ layer of clothing I had on was wet. I just wrung my trousers and jumper out, producing a small waterfall from them, before throwing on my uniform and scarlet robes. I was going to be soaked again the moment I stepped back outside. My skin was so cold, and once we were in the air, it was going to be absolutely freezing. Merlin this match was going to be a nightmare. 

When we were all back in the central space, changed and sloshing around in the half inch of water on the floor, Oliver gave us all another long look. "Just... fly like hell, and we’ll be good." I took a deep breath as we walked out of the locker room, brooms in hand. My Cleansweep was newer than the Twins', but I was still nervous about it. It hadn’t flown through weather this bad before, and no amount of insistance from Oliver could keep me from panicking.

Outside, I couldn't hear the crowd. The wind was howling so badly that any cheers were completely drowned out. The Hufflepuff team staggered onto the field opposite us, and we all met Madame Hooch in the middle. Cedric gave Oliver a friendly smile when they shook hands, one I was sure Oliver didn’t return. I just mounted my broom, the mud trying to eat my feet, soaking into my broken trainers. I could already feel my toes going numb. 

I barely heard Madame Hooch’s whistle blow. I kicked off and knocked one of the Hufflepuff Chasers to the side so Angelina could get the Quaffle. I was nearly blown off course, but I managed to get my broom pointed right and I shot down the field after her and Katie. I lagged behind them, making sure to position myself annoyingly so that the other Chaser who was on our tail couldn’t go after the Quaffle. Suddenly, a black ball came out of nowhere, and I barely managed to roll out of the way of the Bludger. I saw Katie toss the Quaffle through a hoop at the Hufflepuff end, and I think I heard the crowd screaming, though that could have just been the wind. I cursed Oliver and his stupid pride.

Ten minutes in, we had only scored once more, while Hufflepuff had gained by thirty points. Whatever training Cedric had them doing was apparently really effective. I heard a faint whistle and looked down to see Oliver flying down to Madame Hooch. I headed down too, relieved for the break. The Gryffindor team landed hard, splattering mud everywhere. I was going to take the hottest bath after this, and maybe hex Oliver too.

“It doesn’t look like the rain is going to let up,” Oliver shouted. “Harry, an early catch wouldn’t hurt!” 

“That would be great,” Harry yelled back, voice dripping in sarcasm, “if I could see the Snitch, let alone where I’m flying!” He gestured to his glasses, which were completely fogged over with no hope of cleaning them off.

"I _told you_ this was a bad idea," I replied hotly, glaring at Oliver. "But now we _certainly_ can't forfeit!"

"Well, if you could _fly straight,_ Potter, McDowell probably wouldn't have intercepted from you-"

" _What?!_ "

"Don't you blame her for the wind, Wood-"

“Harry!" Rushing across the pitch to us was Hermione, her hair and clothes soaked. She grabbed his glasses, tapped them with her wand, and said, “ _Impervious!”_ She handed them back to him. "Try this, it should help keep the rain off of them!"

The spark of hope was enough to completely change Oliver's attitude. “Let’s all do that!” He pulled out his wand and did the charm on his own face. The rest of the team followed suit, and I had to admit, it was an improvement. Rain bounced off of my face now, and my vision was slightly clearer. “Okay team, let’s play! Show Hufflepuff how it's done!” 

We were off again. I was still boiling with anger at Oliver snapping at me. I decided to take out my frustrations on the Quaffle, punching it clean out of Stebbins' arms. I swerved around him and managed to catch it, tearing down the pitch as fast as my broom would allow, dodging two Bludgers, a Hufflepuff Beater, and two opposing Chasers. I didn’t see Katie or Angelina anywhere near me, but I could see Stebbins coming after me from underneath, forcing me to fly higher. I was far higher than I wanted, and I looked for a move to make that would dart me down closer to the goal hoops. I glimpsed some Weasley red hair below me, and I saw an opening. 

Something struck me so cold to the bone that I didn’t dive. I looked around, trying to figure out the source of the freezing. My stomach twisted and I felt as if I would vomit. Every bad thought, anxious spiral, and depressive episode I'd ever had slammed me, and I felt the Quaffle slip from my fingers as I clamped both hands to my head.

_You're worthless, second rate, you'll never live up to your famous name, Harry is better off without you, no one will ever love you, you're stupid, obnoxious, ugly, everyone fakes being your friend, you should just off yourself-_

A black shape was floating towards me, an eager hand outstretched.

Then a voice was there, clear through the gale, while I rolled on my broom, completely losing control. 

“ _Lily, take the kids and run! I’ll hold him off!”_

* * *

Everything was foggy when I came to, like I had been in a very deep, peaceful sleep. I was warm, and comfy, but my back and left shoulder were aching. I groaned. What the hell had happened? I must be in the Hospital Wing, and after opening my eyes a bit, my suspicions were confirmed. Even with my vision this blurry, I knew the ceiling of the Hospital Wing almost as well as I knew the canopy of my four-poster. 

“You awake?” 

The voice was unfamiliar, and panic spiked through my body like electricity. My hands shot out from under the blankets to fumble blindly for my wand, wrenching my shoulder in the process. I blinked rapidly, trying to get my eyes to just _focus_. A hand reached over to stop me from sitting up, pressing down on my injured shoulder, and I let out a yelp.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know which was your bad shoulder.” The hand moved away, and I squirmed to sit up.

I finally managed to place the voice. “Cedric, is that you?” 

“Er, yeah.” 

Cedric was sat on a chair pulled up between my bed and the one next to me that was occupied by a sleeping Harry. He didn't look troubled in his sleep, his glasses and wand on the table between us, a few cuts on his cheek and the bridge of his nose. “Why are you here? What time is it?” I adjusted the pillows behind me so I could sit better. The sky outside was dark, only a handful of candles and the softened light from the corridor lighting the room.

“It’s nearly eight, I think,” he said, glancing down at his wristwatch. “Madame Pomfrey is in her office, she said I could visit if I was quiet.” He hesitated, dropping his gaze to look at my bedspread instead of my face. “I, um, came to see if you were okay. Harry woke up earlier, but you hadn't, so..."

My hands clasped together on the sheets were suddenly immensely interesting. "Oh, uhh.... I mean, I feel like crap, but..." I cleared my throat. "What, um... what happened?"

“You… you don’t remember?”

“I remember—” Cold. Depression. Anxiety. My father’s voice. Lips trembling, I asked, “Were… were there Dementors?”

He nodded. “They must have been drawn to the excitement of the match. I… you and Harry, you both fainted… I saw you fall, one of the Twins was below you. He tried to break your fall, but you were going too fast…” He shifted in his seat next to me. “They said he dislocated your shoulder, then you were on the ground… Dumbledore was furious, I’ve never seen him so angry. He drove the Dementors off and then brought you and Harry up to the castle.” 

The news was hardly surprising, and suddenly my injuries made sense. But still… no one _else_ fainted around Dementors…

“What about the match?” I asked, dreading the answer. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he immediately blurted out. “I didn’t see you or Harry drop off your brooms until I had caught the Snitch. I’ve asked Oliver for a rematch but he won’t listen to me. It’s entirely unfair, the storm was so terrible and then the Dementors—”

“If Oliver’s admitted defeat, then you won fair and square,” I said, sighing. 

“No, we didn’t.”

“ _Yes_ , you did.” I rolled my eyes. "Just... just take the win. You deserve it."

He was quiet for a long moment before saying, "None of us should have been out there today. I should have had the match pushed back."

"We tried to get Oliver to," I said. "He wouldn't listen to it. Thought we stood a chance." I realized my hair was still somewhat in a plait, but mostly a tangled mess. I started carefully taking it out and finger combing the crunchy waves and frizz. "He's absolutely mental, though. What did he actually say when you asked, that you could shove your broom right up your arse?"

Cedric chortled. "Something like that."

"Typical." I peaked up at him through my fringe of red hair. He looked quite tired, but somewhat content to be sitting in the quiet. "He's been a bit... on edge, this year, to say the least." I really didn't want to trash talk Oliver in front of anyone, least of all another team's Captain. But a wave of anger came flooding back to me when I remembered how Oliver had yelled at me during the match. "I... it's just making things stressful. So don't worry about it. Best to move on, honestly." Now if only I could take my own advice. I was going to have _words_ with Oliver when I got out of here. 

If Cedric seemed unhappy with that answer, he didn't say. I looked at the sheets again as I finished untangling my hair, feeling his eyes on me. I didn't terribly like being watched, but didn't know how to tell him to leave. Everything I tried to come up with sounded incredibly rude.

"I'm sorry the... the Dementors affect you so much," he finally mumbled. "I mean, not that I can do anything about it, but... I feel absolutely dreadful around them. I can't even imagine how..." He trailed off, looking at Harry now. Cedric's cheeks were pink, I was sure of it this time. "It must be horrible."

"It, um... it is." I didn't know what else to say, nor did I want to. It was already enough that people whispered behind mine and Harry's back about fainting episodes on the train in September, but now this? I blinked rapidly, looking up. I couldn't get the words out of my head. ' _Take the kids and run, I'll hold him off._ '

Cedric made a noise as though he was going to say something, but stopped himself. Instead, he busied himself with something at his feet. When he sat up again, he had two boxes of Chocolate Frogs in his hands. He set one on the bedside table by Harry's things, and gave the other one to me. "Professor Lupin mentioned that chocoloate helps with the effects, so erm, here." I clutched the box in my hands, unsure of what to do or why this was happening. "It's... it's the least I can do."

"Th-thank you," I managed. ' _Do not cry like a stupid git in front of him_.'

There were another couple moments of silence before Cedric spoke again. “I should go. You need rest.” He stood up, checking his watch again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I imagine. I hope you and Harry both feel better soon.”

“Yeah. Um, thanks. I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

He walked towards the windows that looked out into the corridor, his shadow slipping out the door and away to his common room. I lay there for quite some time, trying to decode all of the conversation. I finally fell asleep with the firm thought in my mind that Cedric was just being friendly, and fair, and that’s all he ever intended.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a monster of an OC-centric fanfic that I wrote ages ago and am gutting and rewriting to post on here because I can't be stopped or let well enough alone. This is a oneshot I wrote a while ago as a series of "prequels" to that. I'm probably going to post the smaller fics and oneshots before I put up the big one? 
> 
> Anyways, comments and kudos are always appreciated! Thank you for reading!


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